Until The Current Ends
by TamariChan
Summary: Somehow, staring at a fire doesn't seem to help Lerant solve his problems. Vania of Conte/Lerant of Eldorne/Lianne of Conte II, written for the Tasty Triple Jump for Decathlon at fiefgoldenlake . proboards . com. Part of the "Of Freedom" series.


**Disclaimer: The world and characters of Tortall belong to Tamora Pierce.**

**Author's Notes:** **Written for Decathlon at fiefgoldenlake . proboards . com. **Titles (for series and fics) are taken from Maya Angelou's _I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings._

Title: Until the Current Ends  
Rating: PG-13  
Event: Tasty Triple Jump  
Words: 889  
Summary: Somehow, staring at a fire doesn't seem to help Lerant solve his problems.

Until the Current Ends

The fire dances in front of Lerant, lifting its orange skirts and flitting around in the darkness.

He looks and looks to try and erase the images in his mind, but it's useless. He swallows and swallows to try and erase the lump in his throat, but it's useless. He concentrates and concentrates on the laughs of the company to try and erase the voices in his head, but it's useless.

He isuseless.

It's all a misunderstanding. He had tried to explain, but Lianne was having none of it- she never took his excuses for anything, from being late to canceling dates, so he wouldn't expect her to listen now- except that he did.

She says, directly, that she is not surprised- this sort of thing happens a lot. He's shocked, because Lianne is sweet and beautiful (and rich and influential, the things that matter to men who aren't Lerant). But he's not _that _shocked, because Vania is just as rich, just as influential, and definitely more beautiful, even though she's anything but sweet.

Lerant likes sweet, always has. He loves Lianne's laugh, her smile, her cute black bangs, and her penchant to helping everyone she knows.

That's why it was so easy, at first, to resist Vania, with those long lashes and red lips. Vania, whose every move, every word, screams _sin._

Unfortunately, Vania didn't take well to being resisted, and that's how he found himself cornered in the stable. And before he could get out of it, explain to Vania that he's (not) really interested, a distressed Lianne found them.

Explanations were useless with her, just like they always have been. And _he_ is useless, just like always.

Two black-haired women dance past his eyes and through the fire, silhouetted against the light. One is beautiful, so is the other; one is as sweet as the other is sharp; one is right for him and one isn't.

It should be a simple decision, as easy as closing his eyes- but he closes his eyes and it's not getting any easier.

"Lerant!"

He looks up to see Dom, looking grim. "Yes?" he says uncertainly.

"There's someone to see you," Dom says.

Lerant shifts on the log bench and peers through the darkness, hearing Dom's footsteps crunch away toward the tents, followed by many other soldiers going to sleep for the night.

There's a thump beside him and he nearly falls off.

"It's me," the person says.

"Lianne?" he says.

"Yes."

"What're you doing here?" he asks, straining to see her expression in the dim glow from the fire.

"Vania confessed. She told me it was her fault," Lianne says. "I am sorry that I did not believe you." Her signet ring glitters in the firelight as she twists her hands.

Lerant's tempted to refuse her apology. Lianne doesn't sound like she's sorry at all, her tone level and her words as stiff and formal as the day they met.

She continues before he speaks. "I understand if you do not wish to forgive me. I should have trusted you, should have listened. We rode out as soon as Vania told me," she adds, wringing her hands more forcefully. "She's over with our horses. I hoped that you would understand."

He scoots closer to her, reaching out to take her hand before she chafes herself raw. "Lianne," he says, "Calm down."

She looks up at him, her face shaded. "Me?" Her short laugh would be called hysterical, if it wasn't _Lianne_. "I've got it all under control."

He raises an eyebrow, even though he doubts she can see it. "Do you?"

"Maybe," she says, with a shallow inhale. "I just want everything to be okay."

"I can't say that it will be," he says. "No one can say that."

She gives the short, frantic laugh again. "It's ridiculous, isn't it, to expect you to accept my excuses, when I never took them from you?"

Yes.

"No," Lerant says. "Everyone's a hypocrite. You just hide it better than most people. Why don't you bring Vania over, and you two can have something to eat. I'm sure you're starving."

Lianne leaves, and reappears with Vania a few minutes later.

"Hi," Vania says softly.

"Hello," Lerant says, a little stiffly. Vania and Lianne dish up leftover soup and the three of them watch the fire dance.

After the last few company members slip into their tents, Lerant turns back to Lianne. "I need to sleep," he says.

"Of course," she says, getting up. "We'll just ride back, then."

He shakes his head, then remembers they can barely see him. "It's dark," he says. "Too dangerous for you both. Come on." He lights a candle from the fire.

Lianne and Vania follow him.

"Here, Vania, you can stay with Squire Alan. I doubt he'll mind," Lerant says, avoiding her eyes.

Vania goes in without a word, and Lerant leads Lianne to his tent, ignoring her protesting whispers.

"Shh. It's fine," he says softly, holding the tent flap open for Lianne.

"Is it?" she says with an undertone to her words.

"Everything is going to be okay," he says. "I have an extra bedroll."

She smiles, her face flickering in the candlelight. "So you don't love Vania?"

So much for subtlety. He snuffs the candle and pulls Lianne closer.

"What do you think?"


End file.
